


Lock the Doors and Close the Blinds

by verdictlesslife (Jaetion)



Category: 3:10 to Yuma (2007)
Genre: Cowboys, Handcuffs, M/M, PWP, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-14
Updated: 2010-01-14
Packaged: 2017-10-06 06:44:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaetion/pseuds/verdictlesslife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben and Dan in the bridal suite.  The title is from the song "I Can't Decide" by the Scissor Sisters.  (January 2008)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lock the Doors and Close the Blinds

"Your gang-"

"Fuck 'em," Ben snarls. Undressing with cuffs on damn near impossible, and Dan's hands are tight around Ben's collar and stay there, frozen, which is goddamn unhelpful. He wants it - Ben knows it and he'd always right - it's just getting him to admit it that's a bitch. Dan doesn't make anything easy, and it's not fair that that's so arousing: _fighting_ for something instead of just _getting_ it.

"But Charlie-"

"Fuck 'im." He's not going to think about goddamn Charlie and the boys now. Ben pushes up the thin cotton shirt, running his fingers briefly across Dan's shivering stomach. Skinny, he discovers as he touches the soft flesh covering Dan's ribs. _Christ_, too skinny - Just bones and bruised skin. That makes him madder somehow, and he shoves Dan flat on his back on the bed to work on his pants.

"You can't-"

"Fuck that, Dan." That he _can't_ is ridiculous. Of course he _can_ \- They're in the goddamn bridal suite of all places and handcuffs are a pain in the ass but that ain't impossible to work around and for days he's been chasing his prize. Dan's breaths come out in panting puffs even though he hasn't been doing any of the work, just sitting while Ben fights the grip of Dan's belt. And balancing while straddling isn't easy, especially with his pants getting so goddamn tight.

"Wade-"

"Ben, Dan. _Ben_." He could at least have the decency to use his goddamn Christian name. But then Dan obligingly lifts his hips when Ben yanks at his pants, and his cock's up already - Of course; everyone likes him, from the judges to the wardens to the whores and everyone in between. He gets what he wants, and he wants Dan - The bastard who doesn't know when to give up and give in and is skinny and hungry and thirsty and poor. Everyone else would be on their knees in front of him already or they'd be dead.

"Dammit, Wade! I gotta take you in-"

"_Ben_." Everyone else would've surrendered. Everyone else would've been defeated. Only goddamn Dan would keep him in cuffs for so long. It's getting infuriating that Dan refuses to admit his weakness when it's written so goddamn clearly across his face and his goddamn cock. Ben sits back on his haunches to survey Dan's partial nudity: the bones of his pelvis stick out, too, and it's obvious who of the Evan's family has been bearing the weight of the drought and debt. "Damn, you're stubborn."

"I- I ain't stubborn-"

"Contrary." Ben adds as he grabs Dan's erection. Dan inhales a sharp breath and closes his eyes - which is a damn shame; there's green in those hazel eyes - and when Ben strokes, he grunts and arches forward. A thrill shudders through Ben, too, like he's the one being touched. The chains of the cuffs drag along as Ben moves his hands, but that sets Dan off even more. He makes fists in the sheet, grabbing handfuls and twisting, and Ben grins triumphant as he watches Dan writhe below him. "I knew you'd warm up to me eventually."

Dan shakes his head, eyes still squeezed shut, and makes a noise in his throat. He's so silky and warm that Ben's eyes close for a second, too – but only for a second, because like hell is he going to miss watching him. Dan shudders and releases the sheets, and his hands latch onto Ben's thighs, his long fingers digging in like goddamn claws. When Ben grunts at the pain, he blinks his eyes open and runs his tongue over his lips – cocktease – and then all of a sudden pushes backward, wiggling like a snake and bending his legs. The damn rancher nearly knocks Ben off the bed - The hell is he doing? The hell is he _thinking_? They're so close- Ben wobbles and curses, "Dammit, Dan, what are-"

"Shut up," and then, as an almost after-thought, "Ben."

Those long fingers move up Ben's legs to the waist of his pants and then goddamn stop there for an unbearably long second before unbuttoning and undoing and reaching and rubbing. He's still on his knees and they're aching and his cock in Dan's hands is aching, and _Jesus_, it's hard to keep his eyes open. Dan's got calluses and he's going about it too delicately, but goddamn, he's making Ben's pant with the heat of it and the slide of it and those wide eyes-

It'd be easy to come, but he's no greenhorn, so he clamps his teeth together, swings his legs to the side, and drops onto the mattress next to Dan. What he wants is to grab Dan's hips and grind hard into him, but with the goddamn cuffs, the best he can do is push Dan's hands back down. Ben presses his mouth against Dan's neck, skimming with his teeth and dragging his tongue over the soft skin, feeling Dan's pulse speeding like a runaway train. _Ha._ Making him wait for so long and then turning the tables - Serves the sly son of a bitch right. Their arms collide and the chain of the cuffs is an unpleasant coldness against flushed skin, but once he finds Dan's cock again and Dan's holding him – _Goddamn_.

It's better – it's so damn _good_ – to do it together. Their strokes are getting more frantic and it only takes a few more for Dan to come, gasping and shivering, around Ben's fingers. The slick heat of it is maddening and Ben follows with a grunt, a release so damn sharp that it borders on painful. Dan shudders and Ben uncurls his fingers to allow Dan to roll onto his back, his scrawny chest – Ben's gonna have to buy him steak dinners for a goddamn _month_ – heaving breaths at the ceiling. Ben grins at the sticky mess in the cuff chains and wipes his hands on the sheets before sitting up and brushing his damp hair back.

God, victory was sweet.


End file.
